In a move she'd seen numerous times from the stands while in college but had never tried, she sprang from the sofa and launched herself at her captor in a flying body block. Although she'd never played football, she'd practiced medicine, and she knew where to aim. Her right shoulder took the mailman in the back where the bottom of his rib cage ended, right over the kidney.
By this time, the mailman's gun was clear of its leather hiding place and in his hand, but the unexpected blow sent it flying. Anna, her captor, and Nick all hit the floor. Anna looped her bound hands over the mailman's head from behind and began pulling backward with all the force she could muster. The man struggled and cursed, although the words came out in a strangled whisper. He clawed around for the gun, but Anna spied it a good ten feet away, out of everyone's reach.
"Don't move." Anna looked past the mailman and saw Nick standing in front of them. He held his own gun in a twohanded grip, aimed directly at her captor's chest. "Anna, get back."
Anna disengaged her hands from the chokehold and scrambled away. The mailman moved to stand, but a gesture from Nick stopped him. "Hold it right there. Hands over your head," Nick said. "Anna, come over here and let me see if I can get that tape offyou."
With the gun in his right hand, Nick managed to unwind the tape from Anna's hands with his left. When her hands were free, she steeled herself against the pain and ripped the tape from her mouth.
"Nick, I'm so glad to see you," she said. "But why did you come?"
"I got a call from your phone. Then I heard somebody talking about a gun and not being afraid to use it. You mentioned Shady Lane, so I took offand drove up and down the street until I saw your car. You saw what happened after that."
"I know what must have happened. On my cell, the '9' button dials 911. I was reaching down blindly, trying to push that number, hoping the police operator would hear what was going on and send help. Instead, I must have hit the 'redial' key."
"And you're not angry that I brought my gun along?"
"No, I think it may have saved my life-just like it saved yours once," she said.
"Speaking of guns, how about picking up the one this guy dropped? I don't like the way he keeps looking over at it."
Anna retrieved the automatic and, under Nick's direction, removed the clip. "Toss it all into that wastebasket in the corner. We'll let the police deal with it later," Nick said.
"The police are here." Detective Dowling stood in the open doorway, his badge folder hanging from the breast pocket of his ill-tailored sport coat, a substantial-looking pistol in his hand. Backlit, his gaunt frame looked like a visitation from death.
Anna turned to Nick. "You called the police before you came here?"
"No," the mailman said, getting to his feet. "I did. And you heard me make the call." He glared at Dowling. "Took you long enough. I'd thought you weren't coming."
Dowling pointed at Nick. "Just drop that gun and kick it over here. And in case you or the doc have any ideas about coming after me, this Glock can blow a hole the size of a dinner plate in you."
Nick eased into a crouch, put the gun on the floor, and kicked it away. The mailman took one step toward the gun, but Dowling stopped him. "Don't be in too big a hurry. I've been thinking about this since you called. You're getting to be a liability, so I think it's time to shut this little operation down. And I don't plan to leave any loose ends."
The mailman didn't waste any words. Instead, he launched himself at Dowling, his left hand moving to knock the gun aside as his right hand reached for the detective's throat. There was a single shot and the mailman fell backward, both hands covering his belt buckle. Anna watched as the man's fingers turned red and the stain around them widened.
Anna took a tentative step forward. "Let me see what I can do for him."
A sneer creased Dowling's face. "Don't go all humanitarian on me. I intend for him to die. And you and your boyfriend will be next." He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and retrieved Nick's gun. "First, I'll shoot both of you with this gun. Once my former colleague here dies, I'll wrap his hand around it and fire a couple more shots into the wall, to take care of fingerprints and gunpowder residue. Then I'll call it in and take the credit for shooting him, expressing sorrow that I heard shots but didn't get here in time to save you two."
"Don't be too sure of that, Burt. Now drop the gun. This isn't my finger you feel poking you in the back."
Anna's eyes had swiveled between the injured man on the floor and the gun in Dowling's hand. Now she looked behind Dowling and saw the considerable frame of Detective Green filling the doorway, his usual hard expression no longer in place.
"Doctor, I heard the shot as I drove up. I've already called for backup and an ambulance. They should be here pretty quickly, but in the meantime, would you see if there's anything you can do for that man on the floor?"
The small group filled Ross Donovan's office to overflowing. Ross was behind his desk. Anna and Nick were seated across from him in the two client chairs. Detective Green's bulk more than filled the chair Ross had dragged in from his small waiting room.
Anna rubbed the scabs on her wrists. The deep abrasions made by the duct tape as she struggled with her captor were still painful. She wondered how long it would be before they healed. Would they leave scars? And what about the wounds no one could see, the emotional trauma? What kind of scars would that produce?
Ross spoke first. "I thought it would be a good idea for us all to meet and share information." He inclined his head at Detective Green. "I especially appreciate your being here."
Anna looked at the man who'd been both her enemy and her rescuer. "I thought you and Detective Dowling were out to arrest me."
"That was what Burt had in mind," Green said. "Hatley's death, on top of the DEA investigation, was generating too much heat. Putting you in the spotlight would take it off him."
"And you went along with him," Anna said.
"Had to within reason. Burt's been under investigation by Internal Affairs for over a month. We wanted to see if he'd lead us to other members of the little operation he'd set up. And he did."
Nick spoke for the first time. "Well, you took your sweet time getting there."
"So you followed your partner?" Anna asked.
"No, I was responding to Dr. Valentine's call. Lucky for me that Burt had already left the office, so I got the message."
Anna turned to Nick. "And you heard my conversation, called the detective, then came to my rescue-gun and all."
Ross lifted his hand like a student asking permission to speak. "And while you all were playing cops and robbers, I got a call from the mother of Glenn Wilcox, who wanted to see me. Anna knows that Glenn told me some anonymous man pressured him to plant that false prescription. Well, he lied. Turns out, Glenn was part of the ring. The person who told him to fake that prescription bottle was the head of the ring, our old friend Detective Dowling."
"How do you know all this?" Nick asked.
"That's what Glenn's mother called me about. Before Glenn met with me, he put down all the details in a letter and mailed them to his mother, asking her to turn it over me if anything happened to him." Ross opened his middle desk drawer, pulled out a thick envelope, and handed it to Detective Green.
The detective put the envelope in his coat pocket. "This is icing on the cake. Our mailman was asking for a chance to roll on his partner as soon as he hit the recovery room after his surgery. After I leave here, I'm going over there with an Assistant DA to take his statement." He nodded toward Anna."Nice work, by the way, keeping that man alive after Dowling shot him."
"All I did was apply a pressure dressing to his wound. The EMTs did the rest."
Green reached into his pocket and brought out a notebook. He flipped pages until he found what he wanted. "By the way, this guy you've been calling 'the mailman' is named Brevard."
"Okay," Anna continued. "When we got Brevard to the hospital, Dr. Nguyn did the surgery. I just helped."
"Ha
ng on," Nick said. "You and Luc Nguyn did the laparotomy?"
"Yeah, I know what you're thinking," Anna said. "Just like Eric Hatley's case. Gunshot wound of the abdomen. No vital structures hit, a number of smaller vessels injured, several perforations of the intestine."
"Did you give him Omnilex?" Nick asked.
"Nope," Anna said. "When Brevard hit the ER, he was awake enough to tell us. He's allergic to it." She shook her head. "Talk about irony."
Green rose. "Well, I need to get back to the station." He turned to look directly at Anna. "Dr. McIntyre, I'll be in touch through Mr. Donovan here, but I don't think there's any question that you're in the clear with us. I'm sorry you had to go through all this."
Anna had a stinging reply on her lips but bit it back. "Sorry" didn't begin to make up for what she'd been through. Then again, the police weren't responsible for her problems. Dowling was the culprit there, and now he was in custody and looking at a jail term. Ross had told her that police officers didn't fare well as prisoners. She wished she could feel sorry for him. She couldn't.
As the door closed behind Green, Anna turned to Ross."What about the malpractice suit Eric Hatley's mother filed?"
Ross tented his fingers and leaned back. "I can't predict what will happen, but I can tell you what I'd advise, and I suspect her attorney will do the same. That's to drop the action against you and bring a civil suit against Dowling. Unless I miss my guess he's stashed away a tidy sum from his activities. After Brevard brought him into the picture, he expanded the operation to include false credit cards, false insurance information, bogus narcotics prescriptions, drivers' licenses, and probably a few other things we haven't even discovered yet."
"And his associates?" Nick asked.
"Little fish. Brevard gave us names. Dowling will probably give us more, hoping to get a lighter sentence. We'll round them all up. So far as this little enterprise is concerned, it's all over."
Anna clenched her jaw until her teeth ached. Over? No, it wasn't over. The aftereffects would linger for a long, long time. She had to rebuild her credit, complete the process of getting her DEA privileges restored, expunge the false medical information from her records, probably more things that she hadn't yet considered. There was still a lot for her to do. And there was no way of knowing how many others had been similarly affected. And for at least one person-Eric Hatley-it was too late to repair the damage. Much too late.
The meeting broke up, with Green leaving first. When Anna and Nick stood and turned toward the door, Ross decided it was now or never. "Anna, would you stay for a few minutes? There are a few legal technicalities I need to discuss with you."
Nick Valentine frowned and opened his mouth, but Anna put a hand on his arm and said, "That's okay. Go on home. We'll talk later."
Nick nodded once and turned to go, but not before giving Ross a glance that would have peeled paint.
Ross closed the door and gestured Anna to one of the client chairs. He took the other one, turning it so they were facing each other, their knees almost touching.
"What do we have left to settle?" Anna asked.
"We'll eventually need to talk about straightening out your identity theft, but that's not why I asked you to stay." Ross's throat suddenly went dry. "It's personal."
He looked at Anna and remembered the empty feeling in the pit of his stomach when he heard she'd been held at gunpoint, imagining how terrible it would be to see her hurt… or worse. That was when he realized that she'd become more than a client to him. That was when he made up his mind to tell her how he felt.
Ross cleared his throat. "Anna, I've come to think a great deal of you. Almost from the start, I've thought of our relationship as more than just lawyer-client. And I was hoping that you might feel that way about me as well."
Those cool green eyes never wavered. Anna nodded almost imperceptibly. "Ross, I'm flattered. I'll admit that I've found myself attracted to you as I've gotten to know you better. But-"
"Yeah, there's always a 'but,' isn't there?" He felt the pain in his heart as surely as if this surgeon had slipped a scalpel in him.
"Yes, there's a 'but,' " Anna said. "I guess I looked at you as sort of a white knight, galloping to my rescue. But when I thought I was about to die, it wasn't you I was thinking about. You weren't the one I wished I could see one more time." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Ross."
What was there to say? In his heart, he knew she was right. There'd been physical attraction on both sides. More than that, just as she'd been attracted to him as a champion who could save her from her troubles, he'd been delighted to find an attractive woman who needed him for his legal expertise, skills he'd been afraid he'd drowned in an excess of alcohol.
"So there's nothing there for us?" he asked.
"No, but then again, I don't think it was me you had feelings for. I was just a substitute."
He thought about that for a minute. Maybe Anna was right. Maybe he'd transferred to Anna what he still felt for his ex-wife.
As though reading his thoughts, Anna said, "Ross, you're a great guy. You'll be a wonderful husband for someone. Matter of fact, I'll bet you were a pretty good husband to Laura until you let your life get out of control. Why don't you call her and see if she's ready to give it another try?" She grinned. "You can tell her I said the liar and cheat she told me about has been replaced by a caring, considerate, sober man. I'll even give you a note from your doctor if she wants to see it."
21
Anna frowned as light filtered through the drapes in her bedroom. She felt as though she'd run a marathon-tired, aching in every muscle, unable to muster the energy to lift a finger. Did she have to get up? Was she due at work?
She dragged her watch from the bedside table and squinted at the tiny window that indicated the day. "SU." Sunday. She could roll over and go back to sleep. No, today she wanted to go to church. It just felt right. Anna swung her feet over the side of the bed and into slippers. She sat that way for a moment, yawning and stretching, before she shrugged into her robe. Half an hour later she was dressed, with her hair and makeup carefully done. She poured her second cup of coffee and took it to the kitchen table, where she picked up the Sunday paper and turned to the comics. The ringing of the doorbell interrupted her amusement at Garfield's latest antics.
She glanced through the peephole, then undid the safety chain and opened the door to admit Nick. He looked handsome in a blue Oxford cloth shirt, open at the neck. The creases in his khaki pants were sharp enough to cut butter. His cordovan loafers were burnished to a dull shine. "May I come in?" he asked.
"Of course."
He looked expectantly at her. "I hope you don't mind my showing up like this. I mean, I know you and Ross Donovan are- Never mind that. Truth is, I want to go to church today, and I'd feel a lot more comfortable going with you. Would that be okay?"
"Of course we can go together. Come in. I think we have time for some coffee. Would you like a cup?"
Nick grinned and seemed to relax a bit. "You know me, always ready for a caffeine fix. And if there's not a Starbucks handy, I'll take yours."
Anna poured a cup for Nick and replenished her own. "Sit down. We need to talk."
"Yeah, I guess we do." He followed her to the kitchen table and pulled out a chair. "I hadn't prayed in a long, long time before I got that call of yours. But I have to tell you, I was praying from the moment I got into my car until the time Detective Green showed up. And I feel… I don't know. But I think it made a difference."
"I'm glad, Nick. I prayed too."
Nick took another sip of coffee. "I'm glad it worked out okay."
"It wouldn't have worked out without your help. I owe you."She reached out and touched his hand. "And I'm glad you still had your gun when you got my call for help."
Nick drained his cup like a man just offthree days in the desert. "Well, I don't have it anymore. The police took it for evidence, and I told them to get rid of it when they were finished. I don't like being on either en
d of a gun. This was the second time. I don't want there to be a third."
Anna picked up the pot and refilled his cup. "But gun or no gun, you were willing to risk your life to save me. I'll never forget that."
Nick swallowed a couple of times before he spoke again."Of course I'd risk my life for you. I guess I didn't fully realize how much I cared for you until I thought I might lose you. I'm sorry you don't feel as strongly about me."
Anna put down her cup. "Who said?"
"Well, I thought you and Ross Donovan had something going."
"That was what my shrink friends would call transference," Anna said. "I was looking for him to rescue me. He was substituting me for the wife he'd lost. We've got that straightened out now."
The look of relief on Nick's face quickly gave way to a frown."So what about you and me?"
"Maybe when my life gets back to normal, I'll have a better sense of where we're headed. Of course, you may get to know me well enough to decide you've had enough of me."
Nick shook his head. "I don't think that's going to happen. But I'm willing to take it a step at a time. That is, if you are."
Anna rose from the table and moved to stand beside him, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder. "I guess you'd like some kind of a sign, wouldn't you?"
"It would help."
She leaned down and brushed her lips with his. "Well, Dr. Pathologist, suppose you put that one under your microscope and let me know the prognosis."
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Medical Error pft-2 Page 22